“It will need a reg’lar branch here, Mr. Mark, to carry the old Rancocus clear of all them breakers to sea again,” he cried.  “Our Delaware banks is just so many fools to ’em, sir!”

“It is a most serious position for a vessel to be in, Bob,” answered Mark, sighing—­“nor do I see how we are ever to get clear of it, even should we get back men enough to handle the ship.”

“I’m quite of your mind, sir,” answered Bob, taking out his tobacco-box, and helping himself to a quid.  “Nor would I be at all surprised should there turn out to be a bit of land to leeward, if you and I was to Robinson Crusoe it for the rest of our days.  My good mother was always most awarse to my following the seas on account of that very danger; most especially from a fear of the savages from the islands round about.”

“We will look for our boats,” Mark gravely replied, the image of Bridget, just at that instant, appearing before his mind with a painful distinctness.

Both now turned their eyes again to leeward, the first direct rays of the sun beginning to illumine the surface of the ocean in that quarter.  Something like a misty cloud had been settled on the water, rather less than a league from the ship, in the western board, and had hitherto prevented a close examination in that part of the horizon.  The power of the sun, however, almost instantly dispersed it, and then, for the first time, Bob fancied he did discover something like land.  Mark, however, could not make it out, until he had gone up into the cross-trees, when he, too, got a glimpse of what, under all the circumstances, he did not doubt was either a portion of the reef that rose above the water, or was what might be termed a low, straggling island.  Its distance from the ship, they estimated at rather more than two leagues.

Both Mark and Bob remained aloft near an hour longer, or until they had got the best possible view of which their position would allow, of everything around the ship.  Bob went down, and took a glass up to his officer, Mark sweeping the whole horizon with it, in the anxious wish to make out something cheering in connection with the boats.  The drift of these unfortunate craft must have been towards the land, and that he examined with the utmost care.  Aided by the glass, and his elevation, he got a tolerable view of the spot, which certainly promised as little in the way of supplies as any other bit of naked reef he had ever seen.  The distance, however, was so great as to prevent his obtaining any certain information on that point.  One thing, however, he did ascertain, as he feared, with considerable accuracy.  After passing the glass along the whole of that naked rock, he could see nothing on it in motion.  Of birds there were a good many, more indeed than from the extent of the visible reef he might have expected; but no signs of man could be discovered.  As the ocean, in all directions, was swept by the glass, and this